Being Made
by Insanity-Is-Relative
Summary: when an acquaintance of Harry's comes to the dark lords attention at his rebirth Voldemort offers a chance for Harry to leave the grave yard alive after his resurrection. Voldemort sees potential in Harry but does Harry live up to it.


**Being made**

_Summary: when an acquaintance of Harry's comes to light Voldemort offers a chance for Harry to leave the grave yard alive after his resurrection. Voldemort sees potential in Harry but does Harry live up to it._

Chapter one- The Choices We Make

Voldemort had risen from the cauldron. It was like one of the sick muggle horror movies with really good special effects. The large cauldron, the billowing smoke, the face of the villain monstrous enough to make children cry, the face was almost enough to make Harry cry! It all added up to one screwed up reality that Harry was living. Voldemort's face was contorted and looked like a cross between human and snake and when he spoke it came out in a sibilant hiss that sent shivers up Harry's spine as the sound tickled his ears.

"Wormtail, robe me" Voldemort commanded as his pale body cleared the smoke of the cauldron. Wormtail scurried forward with a long black robe and his master's wand. He bowed deep before his master, getting on his knees and raising the objects above his head as if he was giving an offering to a god. He was snivelling whilst making small wheezing noises that made Harry's lip curl in disgust.

"Here master" Wormtail whimpered out as he kept his stump of an arm away from the robe so he didn't get any blood on it. Wormtail's face looked pale and drawn from blood loss. Any longer and Harry supposed he might pass out. Voldemort reached forward and took his wand from on top of the robe and brought it before his face to examine. A sick twisted smile encroached on his features from the knowledge he had his full powers back once again, the knowledge that would shake the wizarding world to its core. Without any more fanfare he grabbed the robe from Wormtail's out stretched hand and shrugged it over his naked body in a smooth practised motion showing he was already accustomed to his new body. Using his magic he closed the buttons up the front until the garment in a long stroke so the robe was buttoned to his neck. He looked down on Wormtail a sneer marring his pale thin lips and a pointed tongue swept out of his mouth to moisten his dry lips.

"Wormtail, your arm" Voldemort commanded and gestured for Wormtail to come closer within his reach. Wormtail let out a wail of gratitude and he crawled hurriedly towards his master, gasps of gratitude escaping his mouth.

"Master, you are the greatest master, I thank you…" Wormtail held up his bleeding stump which still leaked blood. Voldemort did not seem happy about Wormtail's presumptuousness and Harry watched as a glare was directed towards the pathetic snivelling excuse for a servant in front of him. Voldemort's lips drew tight and his hand clenched on his wand to refrain from hasty usage.

"Your other arm Wormtail." Voldemort's voice hissed with his displeasure and the words were spat out with force and threat. Harry watched on as Wormtail's face fell and he looked down to the ground in disgrace, his lip trembling. The traitor deserved worse than a missing arm and Harry hoped he had it coming to him. Wormtail raised his other arm resignedly which bore the dark mark black as the night sky for all to see. The mark looked as if it pulsed with energy which grew in intensity when Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand to the gruesome mark.

The air around Harry began to swirl the leaves of the trees nearby rustled and the grass swayed from the force. one by one loud cracks of apparition filled the quiet grave yard and one by one dark cloaked men and women filled in a circle around Voldemort, white bone masks covering their faces and they each knelt on their knees before their master who stood in the centre taking in the proceedings. Harry was also stationed centre of the circle bound and motionless. Voldemort turned in a circle looking at all those who had arrived. There were obvious gaps in the circle and Voldemort did not look pleased by the fact.

"My loyal followers, it has been too long," Voldemort looked at each of them, watching the winces as they hear the accusation in his tone as his voice rang through the silent graveyard passing through the tombstones. "It seems, where each of you failed," Voldemort spat the word 'failed' as if it burned his forked tongue to utter such a word "This worthless pittance succeeded in bringing me back to life." Voldemort gestured harshly to where Wormtail lay across the grass, dead from blood loss with skin waxy and white. "What a shame," Voldemort mocked regrets and turned to glare at the others continuing in a new spirit. "But yet I am resurrected to full power we once again have our chance it is once more our time to help and restore our world to its rightful magnificence and we will once again reign supreme!" Voldemort's voice rose louder as he spoke true and clear rallying the Deatheaters, Harry could see parts of the charismatic tom riddle that could charm the pants of Minerva McGonogall. The Deatheaters cheers died down as Voldemort began speaking again more sedately. "Even if there are certain disappointing gaps in our fellowship those who are missing throughout our ranks from being imprisoned for fighting for the cause shall be rewarded, others though have run," Voldemort's voice rose to feed the righteous anger that had been called forth by his mention of running. "They fled being too cowardly to pay penance for their misdeeds in my absence and they will be punished! No one turns their backs on us." Voldemort's hissing voice was a roar and the Deatheaters themselves were cheering in agreement. Voldemort's speech had made them feel like they could conquer the world and made them feel companionship for each other; Harry himself felt the insane urge to start cheering if his impending doom hadn't been so imminent.

Almost as if Harry thinking about his imminent death brought it on Voldemort whirled around to face him, bringing the Deatheaters attention to him too. His blood red eyes were peering at Harry in morbid curiosity as he stood held in place tied to the grave of tom riddle Sr, with his arm stain in red from where the dark ritual knife had bled his arm and mud caking his hair he didn't suppose he made a very dignified impression. Harry looked back at Voldemort watching the expressions on his face knowing his own was showing his discomfort and grimacing in pain from his injuries from the tournament. Voldemort was watching Harry with curiosity as if an alien species had landed itself under his nose, but also prominently featured was his anger at Harry for putting his plans back so far. Without Harry to stop him he would undoubtedly already be ruling over magical Britain and well on his way to becoming the powerhouse of the world. What about this boy, which stood before him, had defeated him? They both stared at each other for a time before Voldemort turned back to his Deatheaters who were watching in anticipation.

"I would like to introduce our guest, Harry potter!" Voldemort gestured with his hand as if unveiling a great discovery or a specimen for show. The Deatheaters surrounding them sniggered in amusement and Voldemort motioned for them to quiet down. "He will be joining us tonight as the guest of honour, I believe he should know who his hosts are" the Deatheaters surrounding them hesitated with taking there masks off. "Come now don't be shy," Voldemort jested "after all he won't be leaving to tell anyone." Voldemort looked right into Harry's eyes and smirked as he casually announced Harry's looming demise and Harry stared defiantly back until one of the men taking their masks off caught his attention.

The air left Harrys lungs and if not held by ropes he would have fallen to the earth as he felt his knees shake when he looked into the face of his friend, his trusted protector. The man who he had run to for help whenever the Dursley's did anything particularly horrible like when his uncle Vernon would succumb to the temptation to strike out at his nephew. He had trusted this man with everything more than Ron and Hermione. He had told him his fears and dreams, every secret he had and he had trusted him, yet here he stood a Deatheater. Harry whispered his name under his breath wanting the proof of sound to tell him if this was real or not. Evan Rosier was the man he was looking at, the name that fell from his lips. Oh Harry had known he was a Deatheater alright. Evan had told him about the types of things he had done for the wizarding world when he had deemed Harry old enough as well as explaining why he had done it.

Evan had escaped auror capture at the end of the war and had been hiding out in the muggle world to avoid detection where Harry had happened upon him when he had attempted to run away from the Dursley's when he was five and made it as far as two bus journeys before he'd had to stop for the night. Harry didn't remember but apparently in the end a wizard had found him taken him back to the Dursley's after obviating his adventure from his memory, but they hadn't known to obviate Evan from his memory and so Evan, who had followed the wizard and Harry to make sure nothing bad happened to the little rascal he'd spent three hours with talking about the lads excursion of freedom from the Dursley's, and Evan told him what happened. When Harry had asked him not to leave him to the mercy of the Dursley's they formed a friendship based on him looking after Harry as he lent Harry the moral support he'd need to survive growing up at number four.

Harry wasn't ashamed of what Evan had taken part in, he saw it as a part of the life the man he cared for had lived and Evan had justified himself fully in his beliefs to Harry many of which Harry found applicable to the world he found at Hogwarts but Evan had sworn he wouldn't go back. He had sworn he wouldn't join Voldemort again and yet here he was. At least he had the decency to look slightly shamed. Harry couldn't help but snarl at him in fury, that bastard!

Voldemort was watching him curiously and his head switched back and forth between him and Evan but Harry couldn't bring it in him to care. Voldemort seemed to not care very much either that the bane of his existence and one of his Deatheaters seemed to have some issues. He drew himself up and pointed his wand at Harry to remove the ties that bound him to the tomb stone. Harry dropped to the floor and had to climb back onto his feet brushing of the mud that had stuck to his hands.

"Now my faithful, we shall finally see that this boy is nothing more than that, a mere boy," Voldemort handed Harry his wand with a sneer and stood back into a duelling stance. Harrys mind was too distracted; he couldn't duel now not with thoughts of Evan and Deatheaters in his head, his brain was furious at the deceit. "I believe this is where is ask you if you have any last requests?" Voldemort mocked, vaguely Harry's brain registered Voldemort had watch muggle movies as well, and was classing himself as the bad guy, or was that only to appease Harry's interpretation and viewpoint, interesting. Harry looked to Voldemort then over to Evan, making his mind up.

"Yeah, just one," Voldemort raised an eyebrow as if to say 'I was just kidding' "let me talk to Evan." Harry spat the name Evan towards the man named and watched as he flinched and Harry smirked in satisfaction. Evans eyes were pleading him to understand but all Harry could feel was hurt and betrayal. Evan lied; Evan doesn't lie not to Harry, it was so messed up.

"I think I could allow that, Evan I didn't know you and Harry knew each other." Voldemort enquired motioning Evan closer and he approached after giving a short bow to Voldemort in respect.

"Yes my lord, I have been hiding in the muggle world and came across a young Harry over the years." Evans smooth voice made Harry want to punch the man but he held himself stiffly. He watched as Evan brushed one of the black curly stands of his hair out of his eyes in a nervous habit of his and caught the glint of the Rosier right on his finger. This was his Evan, but he wished it wasn't, his Evan had promised.

"Do go ahead." Voldemort put on an air of benign charm interrupting Harry's inspection of his protector, all the Deatheaters were watching on expectantly.

"Privately" Harry snapped causing Voldemort to scowl and motion them off with an impatient flick of his hand. Harry walked quickly out of the circle until they were stood a few paces away from the group and erected a silencing charm around them so the others wouldn't hear as easily, though he knew they would have a way, Voldemort's curiosity wouldn't allow otherwise.

Harry spun on the spot to glare at Evan whose dejected eyes were pleading him to be calm and understand but Harry didn't feel calm and understanding, anything but.

"What on earth are you doing here, as a DEATHEATER you-"

"Harry you know I'm a-"

"Yes I know you're a Deatheater but you said you wouldn't go back, you **promised** me you wouldn't go back to him, and yet here you are all gussied up in your work robes." Harry mocked

"You said before that you understood what I do" Evan sounded stressed but Harry wouldn't let up.

"Yes, I understand you want to change the wizarding world, make it a better place and stop the muggle's from ruining us by taking away out traditions and power, I understand! And I don't BLOODY WELL CARE! If you want to get extracurricular with your torturing muggle's to stop them procreating and ruining our gene pool then Whoop-Dee-Doo I don't care about any of that, what I care about is that you're going to end up in **AZKABAN** if you parade around in that outfit." Harry's breath was harsh as he shouted his voice hoarse to Evan. Of all the stupid things to do, torture a muggle or two and get out of the way quick sure he didn't care, he wasn't a god who could choose what people should do, but go on a Deatheater raid and the Aurors show up quick as Quidditch and before you know it your making out with a Dementor.

"But Harry I need this, it's what I feel is right, I can't go against my beliefs and anyway, I managed so far without Azkaban, I won't get caught I'm too pretty for it." Evan tried to joke but it came out dry and his eyes indicated he realised it wasn't funny. They both knew that even if Evan escaped Azkaban it was unlikely Harry would escape the graveyard.

"Evan I'm just worried about you, your all I had for a long while and I don't want you ruined" Harrys eyes grew glassy and he hugged Evan around his middle finding himself swamped in the voluminous Deatheater robes Evan was wearing, perfect for hiding his tears. Evan squeezed him tightly and smoothed down some of the strands of hair.

"I know scamp, I promise to be careful and you don't give up easy, you hear me, try and get out of this." Evans voice was calming and Harry who had been ready to throw punches earlier he was so worked up found himself not wanting to let go of his persuedo guardian. But he had to face the music eventually so with a sigh and a deep breath Harry stood back from Evan. Evan looked him in the eye for confirmation that he would try his hardest to get out of there and Harry gave a jerky nod, not trusting his voice.

They walked silently back toward where the Deatheaters were waiting.

The Deatheaters had been listening as Lucius read Harrys lips and reiterated what he was saying, Rosier had his back to them so they couldn't see what he was saying but they got the gist of the conversation. None of them knew what to make of it; supposedly Rosier had known Potter for a long while and had looked after him, told him about being a Deatheater and Harry potter the boy-who-lived hadn't cared maybe even agreed with him. The hug had been surprising on its own, watching Harry potter get enfolded by Deatheaters robes in a caring gesture had looked surreal.

"What do you make of it my lord?" Lucius asked as Potter and Rosier began to make their way towards them. Lucius was usually unflappable and even now had an outwards façade of calm but in his head his brain was going over all the different variables and different reactions this could cause, wondering what to do about the situation so he'd come out on top but for one he was quite flummoxed. Voldemort hummed in thought. Rosier was one of his better Deatheaters and he clearly cared for the boy. If he killed potter it would get rid of the issue of the prophecy and lower the moral of the light but Rosier could also resent him and begin to lose faith and he didn't need that. Also with the prophecy hanging over their heads it was possible that one of the peculiar events of improbability that surrounded the boy could occur and it could have unknown consequences on himself. No, killing the boy would not help, unless he forces my hand was Voldemort thought.

"I believe I have an idea." Voldemort's smiled as a plan formed in his head, yes this just might work. The boy and Rosier had reached the circle once more and Rosier made his way back to his place after an almost angry scowl at Voldemort. He would let it pass as the man's emotions were clearly over riding his senses but his actions confirmed Voldemort's belief on his reaction to the Potter boy's death. The boy in question came to stand back in front of Voldemort and grimaced. His eyes roved over his surroundings until they settled on Cedric's body and on the cup/Portkey. An Idea forming in his head, it was insane but it could work. He was working out exactly how he was going to get to the cup when Voldemort straightened and lowered his wand.

"I have changed my mind," Voldemort looked around the Deatheaters who looked confused and back to the boy whose brow was furrowed. "I think killing you would do more harm than good for now, so I offer a proposition." If he wasn't so exhausted Harry felt like he would have laughed in relief, he wasn't going to die! Voldemort waved his wand and conjured a chair for himself and Harry each facing each other. Voldemort's was throne like in its grandeur and detail and though Harry was surprised Voldemort hadn't conjured him a wooden stool he was happy with the comfortable cushioned chair which Voldemort indicated for him to sit on.

"My lord may we?" Lucius had stepped forward and bowed to address his lord. Voldemort waved his hand to indicate they may and the Deatheaters began to conjure their own chairs each making sure they didn't up stage there masters own thrown.

"Now as I was saying I offer you a place as one of the junior Deatheaters," Voldemort sat with one leg crossed over the other and his white bony hands resting on the arm curling over the edge. Harry would have laughed at the name 'junior Deatheaters' because of what Ron called the Slytherin's but felt now was not the appropriate time for such outbursts. "You will be taught all you need to know to join my ranks and will offer any information given to you that will help our cause, you don't have to attend Deatheater meetings but you and the your fellow junior Deatheaters, if you accept, have a book which is connected to one in the possession of Avery who will inform me at meetings of any relevant information which the junior Deatheaters have collected and written down in their own book. Each of them have a wrist band hidden from everyone else who is without a band or a dark mark and the band tells you where and when to meet. At sixteen years of age you either become a Deatheater for real, agree to become one after graduating or you must take an oath on you magic not to fight against me. What do say?"

This was surreal, not two minutes ago he was about to fight for his life and now Voldemort wanted him to learn the techniques of torture and mayhem Evan had always told him stories off. He hadn't cared when Evan told him he had done them and he didn't mind that Evan was going to continue with his lifestyle choice But Harry he wasn't sure if he himself would be able to learn those types of magic. That was his choice though wasn't it, for now Voldemort had more use of him alive and he was giving him the option of being useful, if he became irrelevant then it might be a different story.

There was also the part of him that was exited to try something new. He had faced off against what others classed as evil magic and Evan had tried to rid him of that stereotype for so long that he was more than a bit curious about what the magic could do under his grasp. What would they learn and how would it feel to be aiding the fight for magic the fight to keep their magic strong and pure without the muggle ideas of bad magic weakening their traditions and power. Harry's mental weighing scales leaned in favour of taking the lessons.

"I accept, I would like to be taught" at a later date he could see if he should join or take the oath, It wasn't all in or nothing. Harry watched carefully as Voldemort's lips twitched in a self-satisfied smile while he swished his wand and Harry felt cool metal on his wrist. He looked down to see a thin metal band with a thicker part holding the engraving of the dark mark.

"It will heat up when a new message is set, Avery is in control of junior Deatheater lessons and will be aided occasionally by Rosier" Harry looked up at Evan and saw the man give a small flash of a victorious smile before composing his face. Harry let a small smile grace his face. After all he was alive that deserved a smile, if not a happy dance, but that could wait for when he was back at the dorm.

"What do I do when I get back, Dumbledore will know you're back because of Snape's mark, and then there Cedric's body…" Harry looked over at the glassy eyed Hufflepuff before looking back to Voldemort and worrying his lip between his teeth.

"Yes well you will be sent back with the boy's body and proclaim that Voldemort has returned Lucius and other political powerful Deatheaters will ensure that the ministry the wizarding community believe that you and Dumbledore have both gone insane under pressure, your lessons will be discreet and as a part of them you will learn to cloud you mind so that Dumbledore won't suspect you until we deem it necessary, anything else before we part ways?" Voldemort raided a hairless eyebrow and Harry thought that it looked seriously weird and wondered if Voldemort would ever wear a toupee.

"Uh yeah, what should I call you?" he couldn't well go spouting about the dark lord and his master in common company.

"For now while you are only a junior you call me 'sir' or the 'dark lord' to other juniors to elder Deatheaters I am 'your lord' and to Dumbledore and all else I am as you always called me which I believe is Voldemort."

"Right" Harry nodded and watched as Voldemort stood and beckoned him to follow, he banished the chairs back to nothingness and addressed the Deatheaters.

"I want you all to apparate to headquarters, they haven't changed, and I will follow shortly." Voldemort turned his back on the many disapparating Deatheaters, one of whom grabbed the mutilated body of Wormtail. Evan gave a wave to Harry before disapparating like the rest. "Now Harry grab hold of the corpse and then when you are properly distraught and feel like you have witnessed a horrific event grab the Portkey to return to Hogwarts, but first cast a spell which Dumbledore no doubt knows you would use in a duel." Harry nodded and shot of an expelliarmus which caused the dark lord to smirk at the simplicity. "Very well, goodbye Harry"

"Goodbye sir" Harry grabbed Cedric and then thought for a few minutes, the basilisk...no...A Dementor...No…Filch in his bathing suit…OH MY GOD THE HORROR I guess I'm ready. Harry grabbed the Portkey and was swept away whilst Voldemort pondered what could have given the look of pure terror on the face of the boy-who-lived.


End file.
